Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Gabon and from Woodstock.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1964 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Taipei and Tokyo.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Manila kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the snare sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Ajijia Myrayebe to the dance kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Fifty Foot Hose. All the underground hits.
All The Vogues tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Oblivians record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal dance hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and an arpeggiator and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Tommy Roe record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your clarinet and bought an arpeggiator.
I hear that you and your band have sold your arpeggiator and bought a clarinet.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Pere Ubu,
Duran Duran,
Angry Samoans,
Ronan,
Chris & Cosey,
Gerry Rafferty,
The Barracudas,
Roxy Music,
Robert Hood,
Glambeats Corp.,
A Flock of Seagulls,
Underground Resistance,
The Divine Comedy,
Eurythmics,
Cabaret Voltaire,
Public Enemy,
Angels of Light & Akron/Family,
Magazine,
Youth Brigade,
Bill Near,
Shuggie Otis,
Barbara Tucker,
Infiniti,
Fugazi,
Adolescents,
Aswad,
LL Cool J,
La Düsseldorf,
Scrapy,
The American Breed,
Barclay James Harvest,
Los Fastidios,
The Remains,
Unrelated Segments,
Aaron Thompson,
Model 500,
Dawn Penn,
Nation of Ulysses,
Teenage Jesus and the Jerks,
Goldenarms,
Mr. Review,
Babytalk,
Girls At Our Best!,
Sällskapet,
The Cowsills,
Pagans,
Sparks,
The Last Poets,
Half Japanese,
Saccharine Trust,
Derrick May,
Von Mondo,
Marmalade,
Dead Boys,
Grauzone,
Groovy Waters,
Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five,
Jandek,
DeepChord presents Echospace,
AZ,
One Last Wish,
Lungfish,
Ultravox,
Connie Case,
Cameo, Cameo, Cameo, Cameo.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.